


Twisted, But So In Love

by JustHannah



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction, Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustHannah/pseuds/JustHannah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was completely insane, he has killed so many people, yet he is sitting here in front of me completely bare and exposed. He is giving me the one thing that he has never given to anyone else, and it's making me debate my own sanity. Do I really feel this way for a psychopath?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Life I Live

   My name is Jesse Pierce, most people don't know who I am exactly because I keep to myself in a sort of antisocial way.

     I suffer from severe anxiety and depression, but in a way those two contradict each other and it never ceases to confuse me. 

     I lead a normal life, as normal of a life as I can living in Gotham city where numerous amounts of criminals have decided to put down their roots, including the infamous Joker who has been at war with the masked vigilante Batman for the past six months. I guess I don't mind living here, the one perk of having depression so badly is that I'm not afraid to die. 

     I live by myself in a medium sized house that is much too big for me, I have ever since I turned nineteen. 

     After I graduated high school at seventeen I didn't want to leave my parents to live with my two brothers. 

     Even though they were older then me, they fought with each other nonstop, and on multiple occasions things were broken or innocent bystanders got hurt. Most of the time they fought about stupid things and I didn't want to leave my parents alone to deal with that.

     My family is what most would label to be 'broken,' one brother, Kyle, had always been a close minded prick who I'd never got along with and never particularly liked, the other, Sam, had always been into drugs.

     Sam was on probation and doing very well for about a year, when he overdosed on anxiety meds accidentally. That is when we started to break apart.

     I pushed off college and got a job to stay and help them with anything I could, but my mother was inconsolable and started to resent me, my father however never stopped loving having me for a daughter. I honestly could never understand why because I saw myself as a terrible person, and I still do.

     My parents moved away a year after I moved into what I now call my home, my father helped me pay for it along with using my whole college fund and every paycheck I worked for.

     Kyle moved in with his girlfriend and was never really sad about the death of his brother which I couldn't understand, I cut off all contact with him after that, now it's just me.

     At twenty-four I honestly think I'm crazy, ever since my mother told me I was, I thought that. I have anxiety about everything but I'm not afraid. I can't take living in my own skin, I hate everything about me, it would make sense to label me crazy...wouldn't it...?

     My past has been one big mistake, I have lost everyone and have no one. But I feel a drastic change coming, a change that is very much out of my control.


	2. I'll Be Seeing You Soon

      I opened my eyes to see the sun shining through the window beside my bed, my instant reaction was to sit up and rub my eyes. 

     I let my hands linger in front of my face and rested my head on them, I had to get ready for work and my head was aching much more then usual.

      I lifted my head and brushed the hair out of my face as I stood and brought my dark clothes to the bathroom and changed.

      I wasn't very comfortable changing elsewhere, I could feel eyes on me. This made me feel even more crazy and strange because when I looked, no one was there.

      I followed a normal routine of washing my face and picking up my clothes and putting them in the basket beside the sink.

      Today felt different in some way, like something meaningful was meant to happen, but I pushed it to the back of my mind, I didn't want to get my hopes up.

      I felt eyes burning into my back as I made a cup of coffee and brought it with me as I slipped my shoes and jacket on.

      I put the cup beside the sink and walked out the door, it was sprinkling but the clouds looked quite dark in the sky which gave me the impression that a thunderstorm was brewing.

      As soon as I put my hood up it was pouring down rain, and I felt the same sensation of being watched as I did at home, like someone was following me. I thought it could be one of the mobsters but he would have attacked me already, it could also be Batman but there was someone with a life and a job under that mask, this person almost never seemed to leave. Then there was the Joker, there was no mask and no one under that make up with another life to live, just a twisted murderer. But if Batman or the Joker would be watching me, I'd at least have to be interesting to watch, which I wasn't considering I wasn't even good looking.

      People always spoke about the Joker at work, as a receptionist all I really heard about was him, his insane laughter and how he had no remorse for the things he did. I felt like I knew him from how much people talked about him. Part of me didn't believe someone could be that way and that no one really knew the real him, but most of me just stayed away from the thoughts of anything other then hate for him.

      I had just gotten off work when I walked down the dark, damp street and toward my house, most people told me that I shouldn't walk alone at night and that that was when the Joker really came out to mess with the mobs, but I ignored them, I wasn't afraid.

      As I walked through an alley, I thought of the multiple murders that might have occurred here and as if on cue when I walked out of the alley, I saw a skinny silhouette with green hair.

      I froze as my heart betrayed my emotions, it twitched with anxiety even though I wasn't afraid of him, something else about him made my nerves go completely insane.

      He turned and smiled at me making me look down, it looked as if he was waiting for someone. I hardly thought it was me considering the fact that if he were to pray on a girl, she would at least have to be pretty, and I wasn't at all.

     I heard him as he stepped closer and felt the need to step back, but I stood my ground. I was hoping he would kill me but expected nothing more then for this to start with conversation.

     I looked up at his painted, scarred face as he asked, "Do I make you nervous?"

     "Yes," my answer was almost immediate as he stared at me with those green, severe eyes.

     "Do I scare you?" He laughed as he asked this but his laughter didn't surprise me.

     "No," it took me a little longer to answer, but there was no point in lying to him. He was the Joker and he would see right through me.

     His face turned sarcastically disappointed, and he laughed again, "Well that's no fun, is it?" He stepped closer to me and ran two fingers down the side of my face, he waited a few seconds before he continued, "So serious."

     Something in his eyes changed after that and he went quiet as he kept staring at me with his fingers lingering at my jaw.

     "I'll be seeing you soon," he didn't smile, he didn't use a loud sarcastic voice, he was completely serious. He was never serious, he hated people who were serious.

     "But boss -" a man walked up beside him.

     The Joker didn't need to reply for the man to be scared, he just stared him down and the man backed away. When he looked back at me his eyes were soft but conflicted and there was a hint of anger, then his fingers dropped from my jaw and I watched his figure as he walked away.

      This quick moment with the Joker was enough to make my heart fill with anxiety, but not for myself, for my family and the chance that they would care if something happened to me. I was unnervingly confused at why he decided to spare my life, why didn't he just kill me while he had the chance?

     The most confusing part is how serious he got when he touched me, and how something tells me that there's no reason for me to worry...something tells me not to be afraid.

 


	3. Why?

      I couldn't get his face out of my head, even when I sketched it at least three times my trial to rid him from my mind failed miserably. I felt like I was going insane, thinking of every possible explanation for every little thing he said and did, even if he didn't say much at all. He made my skin crawl, but even then there was also another side of me that couldn't wait to see him again.

     That feeling of being watched never went away and only got worse as the days came and went, even when I was working I felt it, I knew it was him.

     It has been two weeks since that encounter with the Joker and things were feeling much different then before, somehow I felt safer knowing that he wouldn't let anyone touch me or do anything to me that night, but this was the Joker. For all I know he could be waiting for the right moment to kill me.

     I've missed almost every other day at work and was on the brink of getting fired, I was trying to stay away from people, I was starting to feel more antisocial than before.

     I was shaken out of my thoughts as a loud noise came from the TV in the room in front of me, I wasn't really watching it, more staring at the wall. I lightly touched my hand to my heart trying to breath from the noise that made me jump.

     I finished with the dishes and stood in front of the counter with my arms crossed in front of me, I decided to walk over and turn off the TV when the sound of footsteps made me turn. I turned to see the face that I had been seeing over and over in my head, the face that I was craving to see, the Joker.

     He walked towards me and stopped as he stood almost one foot away then spoke, "You really are beautiful, aren't you?"

     I heard a switching sound and looked in his hand to see a small switchblade, he held it up to my face and took my face in his other hand, his soft grip surprised me as I stared at him.

     "Is it the scars?" he asked in response.

     "No," I answered plainly.

     "You wanna know how I got them?" I did find myself wondering and as I didn't answer his grip on my face tightened, he continued, "My father was a drinker...and a fiend. He'd beat mommy right in front of me. One night he goes off crazier than usual, mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn't like that. Not. One. Bit."

     I felt my heart drop into my stomach as I listened when he pressed the blade to my lips and started again, "So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. Turns to me and says 'Why so serious?'" he growled the words of his father, "Comes at me with the knife- 'why so serious?' He sticks the blade in my mouth- 'Let's put a smile on that face'"

     He put pressure of the blade enough to cut me but pulled the knife away before he had the chance, he turned around and covered his shaking head with his hands.

     "Why aren't you afraid of me?!" he screamed and turned back to me with wide eyes.

     "Because I'm not afraid to die," my voice was soft as I saw something flashing through his eyes, an emotion that he was holding back.

     "You're making things so difficult!" he shouted and covered his ears, scratching at his hair, he seemed to calm as he said quietly, "I keep trying to kill you, Jesse, and every time I do, I can't."

     I stepped closer to him and he just looked up at me, dropping his hands and using a threatening voice, "Why are you doing this to me?"

     I didn't exactly know how to answer his question, but I replied with, "Everyone needs someone that they know they can trust."

     "How do you know I won't just turn on you?" he put the blade up to my lips once again, "Doesn't it bother you?"

     "I don't, and it doesn't,"

     "Then why even make the effort?" he growled.

     "Because I have nothing to lose," he once again dropped the blade from my lips, throwing up his arms in an act of frustration.

     "I don't understand you..." he sounded almost sad as he whispered these words but I couldn't tell if it was real sadness of not.

     I watched him as he paced back and forth in front of me repeating the words, "What to do with you," until he stopped and turned back to me.

     Something flashed through his eyes when suddenly he turned around and neared the back door, I had to ask, "What's your real name...?"

     He stopped halfway out the door with his back to me, I turned his head and looked at me over his shoulder, it took him a few seconds to reply, "Jack," and then he was gone.

 


	4. I Trust You

     I wanted to see him again, there were so many questions I needed to ask him...he was making me feel crazy for caring about him. He's a psycho killer and I felt so attached to him, what does that say about me...?

     There was something about his past that made me feel so guilty and sad for him, now because of it he only sees darkness and anarchy. He's lost faith in humanity.

     It was all over the news to stay inside tonight, that The Joker was out again, doing what he does best, causing anarchy.

     My back door slid open to reveal The Joker standing there, his face and his shoulder bleeding through his make up and clothes.

     "What happened...?" I walked closer and was surprised as he didn't pull away.

     "That rat with wings, I need your help."

     I led him to the bathroom and had him sit on the counter near the sink, he took his jacket and his button down shirt off and I felt even more guilty for looking at him the way I did. He looked so flawless aside from a few scars on his sides, there were tattoos spread across his chest and when I looked at his shoulder, blood poured from a knife wound.

     I cleaned and dressed the wound as best as I could, he flinched and gently grabbed my other wrist as I cleaned it. I then looked up to see him staring at me, this time his expression was almost soft as his fingers slowly let go.

     I hesitated, "I can clean the cut on your face, but I have to take your makeup off first...is that okay?" he looked so calm and so normal.

     He slowly nodded his head and whispered, "It's bad...the scars."

     "We all have scars that we aren't proud of, whether they're on the outside or on the inside, it doesn't matter," he was almost vulnerable looking up at me while I wiped all of the make up off.

     His lips were as normal as anyone could imagine, but the areas next to them were butchered, two long jagged cuts creating an artificial smile across his face, even as he was frowning at me. Even with his scars he was beautiful.

     "Why did you come to me, Jack?" I said feeling his hand grip my wrist again as I cleaned the wound.

     "I don't know," he wasn't the Joker anymore, not in this moment, in this moment he was just a man, "I trust you."

     "Why?" I just looked into his eyes.

     "Because you're everything I'm not. You see the potential, the good in people, all I see is the bad. All I see is betrayal and anarchy. I see hate. You aren't scared of me, Jesse. When I looked into your eyes the first time I saw you, something changed..." he hung his head and ran a hand through his hair, "I didn't want you to die, I didn't want to hurt you. I looked into your eyes and I _felt_ something."

     He looked up at me and rested his hand so softly on my face I could hardly even understand what was going on, he whispered, "Why do you make me feel this way...?"

     He leaned in and rested his lips against mine, his hand found its way to my back pulling me against him. My fingers got lost in his hair as he caressed my cheek. My lips parted against his as I softly touched his face, careful to not touch his scars.

     "Why do you make me love you, Jesse..."

 


End file.
